Teacher's Pet
by dionysianDaydream
Summary: Blossom's behavior becomes bizarre, as the group's beloved big girl gets gregarious with good teacher turned terrible...or has she?


It all began innocent enough - as a single, shiny red apple - plucked out of Blossom's schoolbag by Professor Utonium, as the girls were getting ready for school.

"Oh, is this for Ms. Keane?"

He held the apple up to the light to examine its totally scratch-free, unblemished, ruby-red surface.

"How sweet of you!"

Blossom stole the apple back from him.

"Yes, Professor," she rolled her eyes, but then smiled as she went on, "I know giving the teacher an apple is kind of a cliche, but I asked her first, and she said she'd really appreciate it."

Bubbles, who was idling nearby with a Blueberry Pop-Tart hanging out of her mouth, tilted her head sideways like an owl.

"What does 'appreciate' mean? Ms. Keane hasn't taught us that yet."

"It means, Bubbles," the Professor says, setting a hand on both her and Blossom's head, "that Ms. Keane would really love it if Blossom were to give her an apple."

"Ohhh..." Bubbles said, exchanging glances with Buttercup, who was at the kitchen table muddling through a bowl of Lucky Captain Rabbit King Nuggets.

Having seen the fruit-filled refuse basket beneath the supposedly appreciative teacher's desk; the green sibling was skeptical. But in true Buttercup fashion, she settled for making up a scowl and shaking her head slightly, rather than saying anything.

"Let's go, girls!" Professor Utonium said as he opened the front door.

All of the Powerpuffs except for Blossom followed him to the family station wagon and Bubbles, who cheerfully skipped and hummed the whole way, abruptly whirled around with a look of concern.

"What's wrong, Blossom?"

She looked nervous; standing alone in the doorway, shifting her feet and averting her eyes to the crisply cut front lawn, that was still awash in early morning dew.

"I think I'll fly today. You know, so I can give Ms. Keane this apple before class starts." She flied up and kissed the amused Utonium on the cheek, said a quick "goodbye, Professor" and bolted away in a streak of pink light faster than you can say "teacher's pet".

"Boy, she sure is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning," the Professor said with a smile.

"Teacher's pet," Buttercup mumbled under her breath, as the form of her sister disappeared into a canopy of light, puffy cotton candy clouds.

But there came something else.

Later, when Bubbles and Buttercup had arrived at Pokey Oaks, they walked in on Blossom and Ms. Keane shifting through the pages of a rather plain-covered paperback, sitting beside each other at one of the many pastel pink, fingerpaint speckled plastic tables.

"Ms. Keane, what are you and Blossom reading?" Bubbles asked, peering over her shoulder at the book's contents. "Are there any pretty pictures in it?"

With a shrill gasp, Ms. Keane slammed it shut, then hid it under the table.

Blossom glowered at her nosy little sister.

"Bubbles!"

"It's okay, Blossom," Ms. Keane said, setting the half-eaten apple she had been holding down on the table, "if Bubbles wants to know, you don't have to lie."

"_You're _the one hiding that stupid book under the table Ms. Keane," Buttercup sneered, snatching the novel out of her teacher's hands to take a gander at it.

"Lol...ita?" Buttercup tripped over the pronunciation, prompting Blossom to laugh.

"Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov," the pink 'puff proclaimed proudly, "it's from Ms. Keane's personal library, and she told me I'm mature enough to fully understand its dark complexities!"

"What's _that _s'ppose to mean?"

Ms. Keane took the book - with a cover so battered and pages so tattered that it was obvious she had owned it for a long time - and stashed it away in her jacket.

"You don't have to tell Professor Utonium, girls. This was supposed to be a...uhh...secret, between me and Blossom."

At that, Buttercup raised an eyebrow. "A secret, huh?"

"Wait a second," Bubbles said after apparently giving it some thought, scratching her head, "so, if Blossom has to be mature to read Lol-ita, does that mean there really aren't any pictures?"

As a precautionary note, in case you have never read Lolita; no, there were no pictures - just pedophilia. And this the Professor was aware of, when he inevitably found out about the secret reading sessions three days later, while Bubbles was showing him a picture she painted in class.

"It's your loveliest one yet, Bubbles!" Professor Utonium declared exuberantly, as he affixed the masterpiece to the refrigerator door with a pair of magnets.

It was a tradition in the household for all great achievements made by family members to be put on display. As such, both doors were a chaotic collage of A+ test results, promising lab reports, and drawings of puppies, kitties, and 'pretty flowers'. However, this latest addition was truly in a class of its own.

"Who is this girl you drew, Bubbles? Is she a new classmate?" he asked of the smiling girl with curly red locks.

Bubbles shook her head.

"No, it's Lolita! From the book that Blossom and Ms. Keane are always reading."

She giggled innocently as the Professor stood there, gaping.

"That's what I think someone with such a pretty name like that would look like. I wish my name was Lolita. Professor, why didn't you name me Lolita?"

He had dashed out of the kitchen and into the adjacent living room before she could notice.

Buttercup, who was laying down on the couch vaguely watching an action movie about a loose cannon cop singlehandedly putting a stop to an armed skyscraper robbery, peered at him over the back of the couch.

"What's that smirk for?" he asked her gravely, whilst frantically turning the room upside down in search of something, "And where did I put those darn car keys?"

With a sigh, Buttercup produced the set of silver keys and jangled them at him tauntingly.

"You never talk to your kids, do you, Professor Utonium? You're always too busy downstairs in your lab, trying to invent the next best thing since magic erase markers, huh?"

"I don't understand."

"Blossom told you she was going to Robin's house, and you actually believed her." Green girl snickered. "What a tool."

For a second, the Professor quietly contemplated these words. At first he was quite taken aback by the mere thought of Blossom lying about something so casually - it just wasn't in her nature. But now that he thought about, she _had_ been 'going to Robin's house' a lot more often lately, which did strike him as unusual.

Finally, he asked, "where is she, Buttercup?" And that is how he came to discover Blossom's other big secret.

It - the secret, that is - had been sitting under a cherry tree eating sandwiches, and flying kites, and riding bikes, reading books, and feeding birds, jogging along paths, and kicking back to watch the people go with their Kindergarten teacher for nearly a month under the unsuspecting father's nose. Needless to say, it was a cause for Big Trouble when Utonium pulled into Townsville Central Park, and found his daughter hanging over oodles of spaghetti noodles with a professional who ought to have known better.

'It', as you can imagine, also made the drive home very awkward between father and lab-created, bug-eyed daughter, but Blossom did have one final conversation before she was to spend the rest of her life grounded.

"But Professor...she's my best friend."

At a red stoplight was where she had her say, assailing the Professor with her pleading, teary eyes. However, it did not help her cause that there was a stain of tomato sauce still visible on her lip.

The Professor remained adamant.

"I don't want to hear it, Blossom. I am very disappointed in you right now."

"But...but..."

"No buts! You shouldn't have kept things a secret from me. Even when it's with someone we both trust, like Ms. Keane, I need to be aware of where you are at all times."

"Okay, I know I messed up, Professor, and I'm sorry."

He tried to be hard on her, but the way she stared at her feet sadly made him crumble, so he patted her on the shoulder.

"How about we stop for some ice cream at that place you like?"

After the light turned green and the naively pleased Professor put his foot on the gas pedal, nothing else was shared between the two. However, the issue was far from being resolved; as the dark, empty gaze in the Powerpuff leader's peepers would attest.

"Just...don't get mad at Ms. Keane," she muttered under her breath. "Please, not again."


End file.
